


The Long Journey Back

by Menelya (mcrevenge)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Resurrection, Romance, Thorin Oakenshield Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrevenge/pseuds/Menelya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Elvenking sacrifices himself to save Thorin during The Battle of Five Armies. Riveted by grief, Thorin slowly loses himself, but learns not all hope is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Journey Back

The grin on Bolg's ugly face, and the sword he held high above Thorin's head, told him he was about to meet his end. War raged around them; they were winning the battle, eagles were pillaging the orcs, Beorn was tearing them apart, the elves buried their arrows deep within their chests, heads and guts. But Fili and Kili had died defending him, their bodies lay beaten and bruised before the gates of Erebor. Blinded by gold, Thorin had betrayed the one he loved the most, forced him into war. The fire he had lit in Thorin's heart so many years ago, his craving for gold and gems had put out. The flame had been rekindled, but the damage had already been done. Thorin had nothing left to live for. So Thorin made peace with his destiny. He was ready to meet his forebears. 

Just as he closed his eyes, ready to take the final blow, there was a flash of silver blonde and the strike he waited for never came. Instead, just as he opened his eyes, Bolg's head came rolling. The spawn of Azog, Bolg, had died at the hand of the Elvenking, who had thrown himself into the battle just at the right time to save Thorin from certain death.

Dwarves, Thorin remembered his father had told him, loves only once. It was Thorin's both blessing and curse, that his one love ended up being an elf, and the king of Mirkwood. 

Thorin was still a young prince when they met, inexperienced and naive. Thranduil was in attendance at Thròr's 100th anniversary as King Under the Mountain. Quite the feast, Thorin remembered fondly. It was late that evening, the Elvenking had requested the company of a musician in his private chambers, and eager to impress, Thrór sent his finest; Thorin. 

The Elvenking, he had been told, was hard to make an impact on. So Thorin found his finest harp, and sung songs only fitted for kings. In his chambers, the otherwise cold Elvenking, let his guard down. He smiled, laughed, and showered Thorin with compliments on his music. Thorin had done more than impress the Elvenking that night, he had intrigued him. Thranduil asked for Thorin's services during his entire stay, and both Thrór and Thorin was happy to oblige. 

Thorin's heart had just started to ache for the elf, when the king thanked Thrór for his hospitality and returned to Mirkwood. Like any other dwarf, Thorin was stubborn, and dead set on winning Thranduil's heart. Destiny would have it that chance bid itself a year later, when gems from Erebor was to be delivered to the Elvenking himself. 

In the halls of Mirkwood, Thorin sung his way into Thranduil's heart. And even though it was a century ago, Thorin still remembered asking to kiss him for the first time. He remembered the weird looks from Thranduil's subordinates, and the passion and heat shared in Thranduil's bed. He learned quickly that beneath Thranduil's cold and extremely beautiful exterior, lay a passionate, loyal and loving elf. 

Thranduil was Thorin's one true love. And Thranduil had just proved to him, that he was still his. _"Elves love only once, too, my love. Gi melin, Thorin son of Thrain,"_ Thranduil's voice echoed in his head.

Thranduil was on his knees beside Bolg's body, his long hair hanging down in front of his face. "You," Thorin said, "you saved me. Just when I thought I had lost your love, you saved me." 

Thranduil didn't move, and it was when Thranduil raised his head to look at him with sad eyes, Thorin realized something was wrong. "You stupid, reckless elf!" Thorin cried, running over to him. Thranduil had ended Bold with one quick swipe of his sword; but before he met his end, Bolg had driven a dagger deep into the elf's gut. Thranduil was lucky to still be alive. "You should have let me die!"

The elf said nothing, just let himself collapse against Thorin's chest, when Thorin sat down by his side. "Remember… when you first visited Mirkwood?" Thranduil asked weakly, his tired eyes seeking Thorin's. Thorin nodded. "You were so young… full of hope. You hadn't seen death yet." Thranduil smiled, his beautiful face was covered in splatters of blood. "You had my heart the day I first met you."

"You stupid elf," Thorin mumbled sadly, "do not dare to leave me."

"My love," Thranduil said, reaching up to cup Thorin's face.

  "I forbid you," Thorin said, his voice nearly cracking. Thranduil coughed, and gasped for breath.

"So stubborn," Thranduil wheezed, smiling sadly. "You have to let me go."

"I'm not ready," Thorin sniffed.

"We will meet again, my love. At the end of all things, you will be waiting for me in the Halls of Mandos and we will meet again."

Thorin couldn't help it when tears rolled down dirty cheeks.

  "Do not veep, Thorin, for I shall wander Valinor, and veep for the both of us," Thranduil said, his voice weak.

"Thranduil," Thorin pleaded. 

"Shh," Thranduil said. "My dear Thorin, will you kiss me, one last time?"

"You stupid elf," Thorin said again, leaning down to kiss the elf's bloody lips, his tears landing on Thranduil's closed eyelids. 

"Guren *níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham. Gi melin, Thorin," Thranduil whispered, looking up at him.

Then the king took his final breath. And Thorin cried.

* 

Riveted by grief, not even the great halls of Erebor could offer Thorin any comfort. There had been no funeral for Thorin to attend, but a silver robe made of the finest silk that once belonged to the Elvenking, was given to him by Legolas as a gift. Something for Thorin to remember him by, and a fine memory indeed, because Thorin had seen him wear it on many occasions. 

When Thorin saw it was Thranduil who had beheaded Bolg, he had sensed hope. Thranduil had still not forsaken him; and just as hope grew in Thorin's heart that they would be lovers once more, Thranduil had been taken from him.

Thorin had broken out of the dragon sickness, but after the battle the king fell ill again, with a broken heart. He shut himself in his chambers, barely eating, spending entire days just staring at the walls or caressing the only thing he had left after his lover. It was only when the stone walls felt too suffocating, Thorin would leave his chambers.

Thorin knew they would meet again, in the Halls of Mandos as Thranduil had promised, but that might be thousands of years away. Thranduil was in Valinor, and would not meet his final death until the end of all things. It was bad enough for Thorin to lose him, but to lose him, knowing he was in a place Thorin could not reach was too much for him to bear. 

The dwarves had seen the Thorin they knew fade ever since the battle. He would not speak to anyone, just lock himself in his chambers or take the rare stroll through the halls of Erebor at night. His friends worried, and it was Balin who finally reached out a hand for Thorin to take, a night they stumbled upon each other. 

"Thorin," he said sympathetically, "the hardest pain, is that of a broken heart."

"Do not speak to me, as if you've suffered the loss of your one love," Thorin spat back, eager to move on, but a firm hand on his arm kept him in place. 

"You need to find peace, Thorin. Or it will drive you mad."

"There will be no peace for me," bellowed Thorin, "until I am reunited with my love."

"Maybe you should travel to Mirkwood," Balin suggested, "the Elvenking's son said you were welcome at any time. Spending some time there may help mend your broken heart. Talk to his son, Thorin. Overcome your grief. Return to Erebor as the King your people deserve."

Deep within, Thorin knew Balin was right. He was in no state to rule over Erebor, not now. So already that evening, Thorin gathered only the absolute necessary and set out for Mirkwood by the cover of night. But Thorin would never return to the great treasure halls of Thrór, because it did not house the one who Thorin treasured the most.

*

Thorin was met by a company of elves by the borders of Mirkwood; they had been expecting him. He was led deep into the woods, and back to the halls of Thranduil. His halls bore no sign of mourning, it was as if Thranduil had never existed. Thorin was led up to Legolas, sitting on his father's throne with his father's crown placed neatly on the top of his golden head.

"Welcome, Thorin son of Thrain," Legolas greeted him.

"You knew I was coming," Thorin said quietly.

"I have been expecting you," said Legolas, "I wanted to make sure you had a safe passage through my father's woods. I'm glad you came, there is something I would like to discuss."

"Discuss? I did not come here as King Under the Mountain, I came here to mourn the loss of your father," Thorin said rather angrily, "a scarce hope that his halls could be of comfort. You don't seem to be grieving, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do not mourn my father, because I will see him again," Legolas said, "you're welcome to stay in my father's chambers while you're here. But before you retire after your long journey, there is something that has nothing to do with your kingship that I would like to discuss. Something troubles me."

"Go on," Thorin said.

"Thorin, my father confined in me in most things, but he told me nothing of you. Yet, I noticed the subtle changes in his behavior after he met you, and the love for you that grew within his heart. He loved you more than he loved his woods, Thorin. I fear that if he does not see you again, my father will die of a broken heart."

"Why are you telling me this?" Thorin asked, "a dwarf cannot make the journey to the Undying Lands, and Thranduil cannot leave."

"There was Glorfindel," Legolas offered, "he returned to Middle-earth to aid Gil-galad and Elrond in their preparations against Sauron. I have strong beliefs it can be done again. My father never wanted to go to Valinor, he doesn't belong there. He belongs here, in his woods. Thorin, you need to go and remind him where he belongs." 

*

It took Thorin over a year to build the ship, but it was a good year. For the first time since the battle, Thorin had growing feeling of hope in his heart. 

There was no one there to bid him farewell when he left the port of The Grey Havens, a trip no one knew whether or not he would return from. Legolas had said to follow his heart, love would guide him on the right path through the spheres of the earth. 

Thorin lost track of time, but eventually he saw tall mountains and green fields upon the horizon. The ship drifted for the rest of the journey, and on the port of Alqualondë, a single gracious elf stood waiting.

"My love," Thranduil greeted him softly, but didn't seem surprised. His face looked tired and weary.

"You don't seem surprised to see me," said Thorin as he disembarked. 

  "I have been waiting," Thranduil said, "I sensed you near."

"You don't belong here," Thorin said, smiling when Thranduil cupped his face. 

"You must love me dearly if you were able to cross Belegaer, Thorin. The Valar took pity on you. No other mortal has ever made it here, not since the sinking of Númenor. I have worried you might do something like this, you could have died." 

"A risk I was willing to take," Thorin said, surprised when Thranduil leaned down to kiss him softly.

 "Let's go home," Thranduil said, "we have a long journey ahead of us."

*

EPILOGUE

Deep within the woods of Mirkwood, the sun had just started to rise. A tall elf clad in only a silver robe, stood by his chamber's only window, deep in thought. The dwarf on his bed, was just waking up.

"It's almost as if I've woken up from a bad dream," Thranduil said, turning to look at Thorin. "The ache and the pain is but a distant memory." Thorin smiled at him, he had nothing to add. His ache and pain was nothing but a distant memory now, either. Thorin watched as Thranduil paced over to him and sat down by his side. Thranduil's robe slipped and revealed a pale, muscular thigh, reminding Thorin of the previous night's lovemaking. 

"I do believe the worst is behind us," Thorin said, reaching up to run his fingers through Thranduil's silky hair. 

"I do think you're right," Thranduil said, leaning into his touch. 

"So, what happens now?" Thorin asked. 

Thranduil smiled. "We live, and we love."

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts:
> 
> 1) The plot follows book canon, mostly to avoid the Thranduil abandons the dwarves when Smaug comes thing.  
> 2) Elves can recover from wounds which would kill a mortal man, so Thranduil, if stabbed with a dagger would most likely be able to heal (but here he didn't because then there wouldn't be a story)  
> 3) It is book canon that both elves and dwarves only love/marry once.  
> 4) It is book canon that elves are born again if they die, in Valinor (The Halls of Mandos), how long it takes before they are reborn depends on the elf. They cannot be reborn twice. Elves don't leave Valinor, whether that is because they can't or doesn't want to, I don't know, but I suspect it could be possible IF Glorfindel returned to Middle-earth after the sinking of Numenor. As far as I know, no one knows when he returned, only that he returned to aid in the battle against Sauron.  
> 5) I don't think elves can actually die once they are in Valinor, but I am not sure. I found nothing to prove the one or the other.  
> 6) Thorin would definitely not be able to make the trip to Valinor, let alone by himself, but you know…  
> 7) "Gruen *níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham" is Sindarin for "my heart shall weep until I see you again", "Gi melin" is Sindarin for "I love you".
> 
> Sources: askmiddleearth.tumblr.com, lotr.wikia.com
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
